The Transformed 01: To Be, Or Not To Be [Complete]
by Trent Roman
Summary: After Dr. Crusher announces that she can reverse their mutations, the Transformed must decide between keeping their new abilities or becoming normal again - but one unfortunate Transfomed finds herself trapped with powers she never wanted. Based on the ST
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: A large portion of the characters and settings in the Transformed series are based on Michael Jan Friedman's Star Trek: The Next Generation / X-Men crossover novel "Planet X", and are used without permission. This is done solely for entertainment purposes, and is not intended for profit or to undermine the fine work of Friedman, Paramount or Marvel. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Picard and the starship _Enterprise_ belong to Paramount. The X-Men, Shadowcat and Rogue belong to Marvel. The other characters are either original or characters from the novel (and thus Jan Friedman's) that are expanded upon here.

# THE TRANSFORMED

**Issue I: To Be, Or Not To Be – Part One**

## Trent Roman

### DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Lieutenant Relda Sovar (Xhaldian male from Ra'ad Cuhloor)

Erid Sovar (Transformed male from Ra'ad Cuhloor)

Corba Eabi (Transformed female from Shupaar)

Paes Xsuw (Transformed male from Cadriil)

Uives Amall (Transformed female from Cadriil)

Nikti Eilo (Transformed female from Bellos)

Jebo Oaje (Transformed male from Ra'ad Cuhloor)

Umini Otwik (Transformed female from the Nornian Coast)

Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Human male from France)

Chancellor Praddis Amon (Xhaldian male from Verdeen)

VERDEEN AUDITORIUM

IMMEDIATELY AFTER "PLANET X"

All around him, Lieutenant Relda Sovar could see people grinning and embracing themselves. Dr. Crusher had dropped quite an emotional bombshell when she announced that the bizarre transformations that had occurred in these twenty-two year old men and women could be reversed by isolating the genomes that caused the mutation and removing them from their genetic makeup. Afterwards, only minor cosmetic surgery would turn the Transformed back into normal Xhaldians. They would never again be plagued by their strange abilities, as the process was irreversible.

And yet, not everybody seemed to be excited about the announcement. Here and there, there was a face that looked grim and thoughtful, rather than open and cheerful. Sovar wondered why. Especially since his brother appeared to be among the unhappy ones.

Gently, Sovar made his way through the crowd in Verdeen Auditorium. As he walked by, he couldn't help but notice the occasional physical change that had overcome the gathered Transformed. Most of them looked like normal Xhaldians, but once in a while he'd spot someone with horns, or fur, or even an extra set of arms. When combined with the normal Xhaldian features like bronze-skin or the blue-black brush on their heads, it made the differences stand out even more. These weren't aliens he was looking at. They were Xhaldians – only different.

Sovar finally reached his brother's height. Erid Sovar was one of the unlucky few when it came to visible transformations. His hair brush had fallen out. The veins and arteries all over his body had become swollen, bulging out from the skin as if someone had slipped thick wiring under Erid's epidermis. The skin itself had turned purple everywhere except for his fingers – and although Erid's fingers retained their original bronze colouring, Sovar had seen for himself the power that was stored within those digits. 

When the Draa'kon had attacked the city of Verdeen, looking to collect the Transformed as part of a decades old political strategy, lieutenant Sovar had witnessed his brother turn on one of the invaders, pointing a finger at the reptilian alien. The fingers had glowed white, and a bright beam of energy had lanced out. That particular Draa'kon had been down for the count.

"Erid," Sovar acknowledged, smiling sincerely. "Corba." He gave a gracious nod to his brother's companion.

Ever since he had returned to Xhaldian when the _Enterprise_ had responded to the growing crisis caused by the presence of the Transformed, Sovar had not seen the two separate from each other. Corba seemed to be spending a lot of time around Erid – and he around her. Obviously, some kind of relationship had developed between the two of them. Considering that over the last few days they had undergone incomprehensible changes, been incarcerated by the government (for which Chancellor Amon had personally apologized for) and hunted down by aliens, it was remarkable that they had found the time for any kind of romance.

Corba's only visible sign of her Transformation was that her hair brush had turned white. That was achievable through cosmetics and dyes, of course, so it didn't necessarily imply to a passer-by that she possessed powerful abilities. Sovar wasn't certain what the young lady's powers were, and he felt it would be impolite to ask. However, he could tell from his security training that Corba appeared restless – which was odd considering that she was in a state of near-exhaustion when he'd first seen her the previous day. She was also wearing several layers of clothing.

"You two don't seemed to be thrilled by the good news," Sovar continued.

Erid glanced at Corba as if for encouragement, then turned solemnly towards his older brother. "Relda, we're not going to go through with the operation."

Sovar was baffled. Not going through with the operation? He knew the Sovars lived a very traditional life out in the barren highlands of Ra'ad Cuhloor, and that their parents had generally been sceptical of technology. Erid had embraced in their parents' philosophy, while Relda had felt that it was a backwards way of thinking. That he had felt stifled by the traditional lifestyle of his family was one of the main reasons he had gone against his parents' wishes to become the first Xhaldian in Starfleet. Because of that choice, Erid hadn't spoken to him since – he hadn't even showed up the day he left for Earth. They hadn't heard a word of each other except through their parents until the Draa'kon attack on Xhaldia had brought them together again.

But still, it was disappointing to think that Erid still regarded modern technology with such distrust that he was afraid of an operation.

"Erid, Dr. Crusher is a very able physician. She's been my doctor for two years now, and look at me: I'm perfectly healthy. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I'm sure she wouldn't have proposed it if it wasn't safe."

Erid shook his head. "It's not about that. I'm sure that Dr. Crusher is very good at what she does. What I'm saying is: I don't want it to be done. I want to stay the way I am. I choose to be Transformed."

It took a few seconds for his brother's words to sink into Sovar's mind. When they did, he reacted with shock.

"What? Why?"

"Why not?" Erid answered with a sigh that seem to say that he felt an argument coming on.

"Well, just look at you!"

"Looks are of no importance. I've been taught that since childhood – and maybe if you weren't so busy thumbing your nose at our beliefs, you would have learned that too."

Sovar didn't respond to the jab. Instead, he softened up a bit. "Erid, I'm sorry. I love you no matter how you look, you know that. It's just that, well… others might not be so accepting."

"I don't care about others. Their short sightedness is not my concern. All that matters to me now is my happiness. _Our_ happiness," Erid amended, hugging Corba closer to him.

"Can you really be happy when you're isolated from anybody else like that?" Sovar asked.

"Whosaidanythingaboutbeingisolated?" Corba asked, speaking so fast that Sovar could barely understand her. "Hehasmewithhim, andIdon'tthinkthatwe'retheonlyoneswhowouldwanttokeepour-abilities."

"Okay, but you could be together even if you got rid of your Transformations. Why keep them at all?"

"These abilities, these powers – they're like gifts. You heard Dr. Crusher: the process is irreversible. If we decide to change back to the way we were, we'll have lost them forever."

"It wasn't a gift. The Draa'kon tampered with your genetic code when you were in the foetal stage because one faction wanted to use you to gain dominance over another."

"It doesn't matter to me how I came to be different. The point is I _am_ different. I am unique. Special."

"You've always been special to me, Erid," Sovar said softly.

This seemed to throw off the younger brother for a second. After the years-long rift that had settled between them, displays of emotion were unusual and a little startling.

"I, uh… what I meant to say is: we Transformed have something to offer to the rest of Xhaldia that is unique, and that will, more likely than not, never be seen again."

Sovar shook his head. "Xhaldia has no need for people with powers."

"I disagree. What if the Draa'kon come back? Have you ever thought of that? Maybe next time there won't be a _Sovereign_-class starship in the vicinity to help us out. Or maybe the Draa'kon will manage to get all our booster satellites before we can send out a distress call."

Xhaldia's atmosphere was ripe with energy fields that disrupted subspace communications and prevented all but the most localized matter transportation. As a result, Xhaldia employed a series of satellites to boost communications so the planet could stay in touch with the rest of the quadrant. The Draa'kon had destroyed all four when they had attacked – fortunately, the _Enterprise_ had already been on its way towards Xhaldia.

"WewerescaredatfirstwhentheDraa'konattacked," Corba put in. "Buteventuallywestartedusignour-powersagainstthem, andprevioustothatwehadusedthemtobreakoutoftheObrigfortress. We'vebecome-morefamiliarwithourabilitiesandwhattheycando."

"Yes," Erid agreed. "Our powers were instrumental to defeating the invaders. Together with the city guard, your own crewmates and those X-Men, we managed to throw back an alien invasion, Relda. That's nothing to laugh at."

"The X-Men have had considerable more training than you have," Sovar pointed out, recalling Shadowcat, the mutant with whom he'd been teamed up. The young lady had tripped up a whole squad of Draa'kon by slipping under a road and sticking her hands out upwards. It had been quite impressive.

"We'll train. When I first transformed, I couldn't control the blasts that came from my fingers. I had to constantly avoid the sunlight, since my power was activated by photosynthesis. Now, I can not only control when I release my blast, but also their intensity. I'm making progress here. Why would I want to throw it all away?"

"But what about the consequences?" Sovar asked. "I saw you trying to run from the Draa'kon. You looked exhausted, and your friend here even more so."

"IwastiredbecauseI'dovertaxedmyabilities," Corba replied. "Iknownowtobemorecareful."

"Look, Relda, both me and Corba got a trade-off when we Transformed. We got our powers, but we also had other changes. These things," he said, holding up his arms, "are very heavy, and yes, I do have problems running. In life, you have to take the good with the bad."

"I'm still not convinced that you're making the right choice here," Sovar said. "But it is your choice, and I can't stop you two from doing what you want to do."

"Prime Directive?" Erid asked lightly.

Sovar snorted. "I'd respect your choice even if I wasn't Starfleet."

Erid purple's face seemed to light up. "You know, this reminds me a lot of your decision. When you said that you were joining Starfleet, I couldn't understand why you would possibly want to leave our home. I was so angry with you, and I just let that anger fester like an open wound."

"It hurt me when I left," Sovar said softly. "I felt as if I'd let you down somehow when you wouldn't talk to me anymore." Sovar blinked away the memories, and stared at his brother. "I won't make that mistake. I want you to do whatever makes you happy. I'll stand behind whatever decision you make."

Erid and Corba smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

TEMPORARY TRANSFORMED UNIT HOUSING, VERDEEN

SHORTLY THEREAFTER

Paes Xsuw was breaking all of his previous records. It was no surprise, really. He now had an extra set of hands to help him along. At first it had seemed disconcerting to be controlling twenty fingers. But he'd quickly fallen into the habit, and now all four hands were flying over the computer console, the data on the screen scrolling by at break-neck speed.

Paes was what one would call a programmer, if one was polite. Others didn't hesitate to mention names and titles associated with the various computer crimes the young man had committed as a matter of course. Paes prided himself on his abilities to get around encryptions and find hidden data. 

He hadn't had the opportunity to try out his new set of hands before now. Shortly after he'd Transformed he was captured by the Security Department and placed at the Obrig fortress along with the rest of the Transformed. Once they had broken out, they had relocated to Verdeen's abandoned Old Quarter, where there were no computer interfaces. In fact, there hadn't even been any electricity.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked besides him.

Paes Xsuw jumped. He could have sworn that he had been alone in his room. Apparently there had been someone with him. He just couldn't see her.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," Paes admonished.

"Sorry," she replied, though he was certain that Uives Amall was smiling that bitter little grin of hers.

Both Amall and Paes came from the city of Cadriil, a sprawling metropolis that was, for all intents and purposes, the capital of Xhaldia. But like any big city, Cadriil had its share of crime; especially in the area of the city know as "The Barrows". While not actually a barrow, it got its name from a malfunction in the sewer system that had turned the entire Quarter into a swamp. It had taken several months to get the mess cleaned up, and by that time the name "Barrows" had been coined, labelled and adopted.

The Barrows was never an easy place to grow up in, and individuals from that area of Cadriil were renowned for being misanthropic, like Paes, or unusually defensive, like Amall. The two had met when they were teenagers, when Amall had run into a spot of trouble with a local crime magnate, and Paes had helped her out, after which they had maintained their friendship. 

When the Transformation had occurred, they'd both wound up at the fortress in the Obrig Mountains. Most of the Transformed there were alone, so they had considered themselves lucky that they knew somebody else in the same position as they were. Especially since given their respective personalities, it was generally hard for them to make new friends fast.

"Would you mind coming back?" Paes requested. "I'd hate for people to think I'm talking to myself."

"You do talk to yourself. And you know that I can't come back now."

"Why not? I promise not to look," Paes said leeringly.

"You're not looking now, and that's the way it stays."

Amall had gained the ability to shift herself out of phase with the rest of the visible spectrum of light when she'd Transformed. Of course, that was limited to only her own molecules, and not anything she was wearing. So clothing ruined the effect of invisibility, which explained her reluctance to phase back into the visible spectrum at this time.

"So what _are_ you doing?" she asked again.

"Just trying these out," he said, wiggling the fingers at the end of the arms that had grown out of his body just below his original set. "You wouldn't believe how fast I can go with four arms."

"Computer users everywhere should be cowering in fear," Amall stated without inflection.

"You bet. Blood of the ancients, can you believe that some people actually want to reverse these Transformations?"

Silence greeted his words, and Paes began to worry that he had just made a faux pas. "Uives? Are you thinking of taking the operation?"

"Hunh? Oh, sorry. I had shaken my head in agreement with you; I forgot that you couldn't see me. My mistake. And to answer your question, no I'm not thinking about that. Why would I? I've got an advantage that nobody else here has. Can you imagine what I could have done with this invisibility back in the Barrows?"

"Are you going back to the Barrows?"

"No, I don't think so. The government has offered to house us here in Verdeen, and I think I'm going to milk that for as long as I can. I really have no motivation to go back to my crummy, _gargril_-infested apartment."

"Same here," Paes replied. "It's nice to finally be able to sleep at night without having to worry about robbers – or worse. Just a few modifications, and I can have the computers in this place running as fast as mine did."

"And I can pass as a normal Xhaldian when I'm visible. Unlike a certain four-armed freak I know."

Paes scowled in the direction of her voice.

* * *

TEMPORARY TRANSFORMED UNIT HOUSING, VERDEEN

THAT VERY EVENING

### Nikti Eilo came out of the sonic shower that evening feeling more relaxed and refreshed than she had since this whole ordeal had begun. It wasn't the shower itself; there had been one in their "quarters" in the Obrig fortress. Rather, it was the knowledge that by this time tomorrow, she'd be truly clean. That she'd be purged of the impurities those alien Draa'kon had seeded into her genetic code.

When she had heard Dr. Crusher announce that she could reverse the mutations, Nikti had been so overjoyed that she had burst into tears. When she'd recovered a semblance of composure, she had been amongst the first to sign up for the operation to remove her faulty genes.

She'd finally be able to go back to her family.

She'd finally be able to hold her children without having to be afraid that she might kill them.

In most cases, the Transformations had arrived without warning. Those who hadn't suffered any physical deformations had no idea what kind of powers they could now wield until those powers activated themselves of their own accord. Nikti had been in her nursery, burping her newborn twins after feeding them their bottle. Suddenly, she had felt as if her hands were getting warmer – or the children were getting colder. Looking at her babies, she had seen odd bluish discolorations begin to spread on their skin.

Nikti had acquired the ability to absorb heat, light, and other forms of energy from her surrounding environment. That included her own children. But because she didn't know this at the time, the young mother scrambled to wipe off or clean the blemishes, which only made things worse.

In all cases, the Transformations had occurred on the day of the individual's twenty-second birthday due to the period in which the Draa'kon had seeded the planet's gene pool. Nikti's mate had arrived home early in order to appropriately celebrate the event, and came upon the tragedy playing itself out in the nursery. Had he not snatched the twins from his mate's grip, they would have died from exposure to Nikti's absorption powers. Afterwards, Nikti had been shipped with the rest of the Transformed to the Obrig fortress. He hadn't contacted her husband yet because she wanted to be pure again before she had any more contact with her family.

Nikti slipped into a soft-hued blue jumpsuit. She felt a slight rumbling in her stomach, and decided to go down to the building's lounge to get a quick bite to eat from the food slots. 

Ashamed of it's initial reaction in dealing with the Transformed, the Xhaldian government was now making sure that all their needs were being met, and then some. Almost all the Transformed were being lodged in a specially formatted building in Verdeen's Governmental Quarter. Nikti wasn't sure who the building had been originally designed for, but several levels were off-limits to them. Nikti had no desire to find out what were on those levels; the building had plenty of housing units for now, and soon she would be able to return home.

Despite the late hour, there were two people in the lounge when she got there. One she recognized from the Obrig fortress as the man who could make himself four meters tall. His name was Jebo Oaje, a rather antiquated first name that could only have come from a traditional area like Ra'ad Cuhloor. The other had been captured after the Transformed broke out of the Obrig fortress, so Nikti didn't recognize her. Like Nikti, both the man and the woman bore no exterior signs of their Transformation.

She flashed them a smile, then went over to the slots and ordered herself a _pollani_ sandwich. As she waited, she caught herself humming lightly. Nikti smiled even wider. She couldn't remember the last time when she'd done _anything_ lightly.

Still humming, she set her snack in front of her and sat at the table.

"You look happy," Jebo said, returning her smile. "You had always looked sad before."

"I have good reason to be happy," Nikti answered. "I'm slated for transport to the _Enterprise_ first thing tomorrow morning to have my Transformation reversed."

Jebo exchanged a glance with his companion. The smile fell from his face, and he nodded his head in understanding. "Good for you," he said. "I hope it makes you even happier."

Something about the way he said that sounded odd to Nikti. She swallowed a bite of _pollani_, then asked: "When are you slated to go under the figurative knife?"

"I'm not taking the operation," he answered.

Nikti stopped chewing, and looked at him hard. "You're _not_ reversing the Transformation?"

"Neither am I," the female said.

Nikti dropped her sandwich into her plate, looking at her two dining companions incredulously. "What possible reason could you have not to take the operation?"

"Why should we?" the woman answered. "It's not like it shows on the outside. We have an advantage that nobody else had. I think its great."

"You're insane." Nikti let out a nervous chuckle. "Both of you."

"That's not fair," the woman said. "It's our choice."

"Aliens have changed your genes!"

"But we got away from them," Jebo pointed out. "There's not reason to change who we are because the people who made us this way weren't very nice."

"How can you possibly expect to live normal lives when you're different from everybody else? When you're… you're… freaks!"

"Somebody is being rather shallow," the woman pointed out. "It doesn't matter whether we're Transformed or not. What matters is who we are."

Nikti reeled back as if stung. She blinked, trying to gather her words. Finally, choking back an unexpected sob, she pointed angrily at the woman. "I love my family. And wanting to get back to them does not make me a bad person." She stormed out of the lounge, her earlier good mood evaporated.

Jebo Oaje shook his head as he watched her stalk away. "That was unpleasant," he said.

"Yeah," Umini Otwik agreed. "What a whiny little thing. I'm glad we won't to deal with any more of those 'Oh, I'm Transformed, poor little me' routines once Dr. Crusher gets through with reversing their mutations."

Jebo nodded. "Hey, look. She forgot her _pollani_ sandwich."

Umini reached across the table and pressed two fingers to the top of the half-eaten snack. Her hand seemed to glow for a moment, then the glow transferred over to the sandwich. It liquefied, turning into a whitish puddle in the plate.

"It's _pollani_ soup now," Umini said with a mischievous smile.

* * *

CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM, U.S.S. _ENTERPRISE_

AT THE SAME MOMENT

"It's… breathtaking. I mean, I've seen pictures of it from space before, but it simply can't compare to actually being up here."

Captain Jean-Luc Picard smiled at Chancellor Praddis Amon's awe. Having lived amongst the planets and stars for such a long time, it made one become blasé about the ethereal spectacle offered beyond the window of his ready room. Being able to see the wonders of cosmos through a new pair of eyes like Amon's was always a welcome reminder that one was part of something so grand it would be impossible to soak up it's beauty in entire lifetimes of space travel.

"It certainly puts things into perspective, doesn't it?" Picard said, walking over to the replicator. "Would you like anything to drink, Chancellor?"

"No, thank you."

"Tea, Earl Grey, hot," Picard ordered for himself. The replicator hummed softly and produced a steaming cup of tea. He took the saucer in his hands and walked over to Amon's side, taking a tentative sip.

"Hanging there in the firmament, it gives us the impression of eternity," Picard mused, looking out his window. "As if something so mighty could not possibly be affected by anything that's thrown at it. But unfortunately, that is only an illusion. Even entire planets are vulnerable to a species sufficiently advanced."

"You think that the Draa'kon might return, don't you?" Amon asked softly.

"They might. Because we've had no previous contact with this species before, we have no idea how they'll act. It could be that the destruction of the warship they sent to collect the Transformed will frighten them away. One can only hope that they'll think twice in the future before taking any hostile actions. But then again, the loss of their vessel could actually spur them on to attack again, out of a sense of blemished honour, redemption, or plain old vengeance."

"What can we do? Xhaldia is not a warlike world, nor do we have the technological knowledge of either the Federation or the Draa'kon. We don't even have a merchant marine of space-faring vessels, let alone anything than can stand up to a Draa'kon destroyer."

"The _Enterprise_ will remain in orbit until your new booster communication satellites are completed, so you can always call out for help. But eventually, we will have to attend to other duties."

"And what happens to us if the Draa'kon do decide to pay us another visit? The booster satellites might let us communicate with the rest of the galaxy, but that's no help if the nearest starship is a week away."

Picard sighed heavily. "Admiral Kashiwada has been advised of the situation, of course, and will adjust the patrol routes in this area accordingly. But I'm afraid that Starbase 88 cannot realistically maintain a constant presence around Xhaldia while seeing to it's other duties."

"Other duties," Amon repeated. "You mean other, more important locations to protect."

Picard wanted to deny the accusation, but the Chancellor had hit upon the truth of the matter. "Unfortunately, with the new threat of the Draa'kon in this sector of space, the Federation will have to step up security for several of our resources in this area. The New Jakarta mining colony, for instance, which produces deuterium for refinery. Or planet Besedia, a Federation member for almost twenty years now. And Starbase 88 itself, of course. Politically and practically, those facilities will take military precedence over a friendly, though nevertheless non-aligned planet."

"So what are you proposing?"

"Xhaldia has always maintained a friendly relationship with the Federation, and we have a stable base to further that relationship. If you join the Federation, you'll not only be afforded the protection given to any Federation member planet, but we'll also start upgrading your technology so that you wouldn't have to rely on outside help for your protection anymore."

Amon shook his head. "I'm not dismissing the idea outright – it certainly has its merits. We Xhaldians have never been great participants in intergalactic affairs, because the energy fields in our atmosphere have cut us off from many of the usual means of interaction. But even if we did go ahead with this, it can take years for a petition for membership to be reviewed and accepted. We'll still be vulnerable in the intervening period."

"There have been cases where the Federation has extended protection and aid to petitioning planets – Bajor and Zeta Epsilon III, for example. Considering your situation, I'm sure that the Council would agree that any Federation embassy here on Xhaldia would need to have the tools to protect itself – and by association, Xhaldia."

Amon mulled this over. "I'll have to consult the population and the Departmental Chiefs before I can commit the planet to any course of action."

"Of course," Picard nodded. "Due process must be observed. And remember, the Federation will always respond to a cry for help."

Amon turned away from the window. "Thank you, Captain Picard. This has been a most enlightening discussion."

Endnotes: This story introduced you, the reader, to several core characters of the Transformed series; namely Sovar, Erid, Corba, Paes, Amall, Nikti, Jebo and Umini. If you want to learn more about the Draa'kon and their invasion to which the characters keep referring to, I recommend you read "Planet X" by Michael Jan Friedman, on which this series is based. If you'd like to know more about Paes and Amall's dealing with the criminal segment of the Barrows, keep your eyes on this series; I plan to revisit the Barrows and those events in a later instalment. The next part will deal mostly with Nikti's tragic character – she's going to be my Rogue.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: "The Transformed" is based on the Star Trek: The Next Generation / X-Men crossover novel "Planet X" by Michael Jan

Disclaimer: A large portion of the characters and settings in the Transformed series are based on Michael Jan Friedman's Star Trek: The Next Generation / X-Men crossover novel "Planet X", and are used without permission. This is done solely for entertainment purposes, and is not intended for profit or to undermine the fine work of Friedman, Paramount or Marvel. The X-Men belong to Marvel. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Picard, Crusher, Troi, Data, Ogawa, Barclay and the starship _Enterprise_ belong to Paramount. The other characters are either original or characters from the novel (and thus Jan Friedman's) that are expanded upon here.

Historian's Note: This takes place in late 2374, approximately one year after "First Contact" and corresponding to the DS9 episode "Time's Orphan".

**The Transformed**

Issue I: To Be Or Not To Be – Part 2 

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Nikti Eilo (Transformed female from Bellos)

Commander Deanna Troi, Ship's Counsellor (Human/Betazoid female from Betazed)

Commander Beverly Crusher, Chief Medical Officer (Human female from Copernicus City)

Lieutenant junior grade Alyssa Ogawa, Head Nurse (Human female from San Francisco)

Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Human male from France)

Bakro Psid (Xhaldian male from Bellos)

Corporal Onjia Wasd (Xhaldian female from Verdeen)

Lieutenant Mireem Sesmak (Xhaldian male from Verdeen)

CARGO SHUTTLE _BOHR, EN ROUTE TOWARDS __U.S.S. ENTERPRISE_

THE NEXT DAY

Nikti Eilo watched in amazement as the final white wisps of Xhaldia's atmosphere dissipated and faded away outside of the shuttlecraft's port window. Beyond the shuttlecraft stretched out an interminable starscape of such depth and size that Nikti felt almost claustrophobic in the small, crowded shuttlecraft. 

The other people on the shuttlecraft were Transformed like her, on their way up to the _Enterprise for the operation that would reverse the genetic transformation that the alien Draa'kon had seeded into their genetic codes when they were mere foetuses. Nikti couldn't resist sneaking a peek at her shipmates, even though being a Transformed herself she knew she shouldn't be staring. Especially at this one individual whose muscles seemed to be bulging out of his skin. Because of cramped quarters of the shuttlecraft, the man was hunched over, making him look like a primate from the Voulsian jungles._

The majority of the people on the shuttlecraft bore no exterior signs of their transformation, like Nikti herself. Still, appearances were deceiving. Nobody could guess from looking at Nikti Eilo that she possessed the bizarre ability to absorb energy from her surroundings. No one would be able to tell that those abilities had gone out of control, and that she'd nearly killed her twin infants by absorbing their body heat.

Nikti shook her head to clear the memories, and returned to her stargazing. Thinking about that was irrelevant, now. Soon, she'd be back to her old, normal self again. That's what this trip was for, after all. And everybody on this shuttle, no matter what their physical deformities, no matter what strange powers they possessed, shared this desire.

Nikti had heard that there were Transformed who had refused to undergo the operation, who wished to remain the way they were – she'd even met two of them, by the Blood of the Ancients. Nikti couldn't fathom why anybody would purposely _choose to stay Transformed. The fact that alien monsters are there cause of the transformation aside, being Transformed would mean being alone. Being isolated from the rest of society, because one was so radically different that their abilities were feared – and rightly so, in Nikti's opinion, when one considered what she'd nearly done to her own children. And that had been accidental, so imagine the damage that could be caused by a mutant on purpose. The thought of criminal Transformed rampaging in the streets was enough to send a shiver down anybody's spine._

Nikti heard their pilot talking to his ship. "_Enterprise, this is cargo shuttle __Bohr requesting clearance to dock."_

"_Bohr, you are clear to dock in shuttle bay four," an inflectionless voice came over the comm._

Nikti glimpsed the ship they were heading towards for the first time. She couldn't help but be impressed by the overall sleekness of the vessel. Due to energy distortions in Xhaldia's atmosphere that prevented subspace communications, her planet had never really become interested in space exploration until first contact was made with the Federation forty-seven years ago. Xhaldia had no space-faring vessels, and even their atmospheric craft were blocky in comparison to the state of the art Sovereign-class starship outside the window.

The pilot smoothly brought their shuttlecraft into the open shuttle bay, landing without so much as a jolt. A hiss was heard at the back of the shuttlecraft, and the door descended, turning into a ramp leading down onto the shuttle bay deck. Nikti followed the other Transformed out.

There were four humans in gold uniforms waiting for them. "Could I have your attention, please?" the one in lead called out. When the Transformed had quieted down, he continued: "We are going to be heading towards sickbay now. For security reasons, we ask that you please stay with the group and please touch nothing. Simply follow the guides."

Two of the uniformed guards turned and began walking towards the shuttle bay exit. After a moment's hesitation, the Transformed followed suit. Hanging towards the back of the group, Nikti noticed that while two of the guards were leading the way, the other two – including their apparent leader – were following the Transformed. Nikti got an uncomfortable feeling of being caged. The Transformed were being watched because you never knew what might inadvertently trigger one of their powers. Hence the need for guards.

It was a situation that Nikti was eager to remedy. She didn't want to be under the look of guards or security cameras all the time. She just wanted to get back home and have a calm, normal life.

After what seemed to be an almost interminable series of corridors, the Transformed were place in narrow, cylindrical spaces that the humans called turbolifts. One of the guards went up with each group of Transformed.

"Sickbay," the uniformed man said once the doors had closed. Nikti felt a slight lurch, and suddenly the cylinder was moving. At least, Nikti assumed it was moving. The lights on the side kept shifting, but Federation technology was so refined that she couldn't detect any motion.

The turbolift stopped and opened up on yet another corridor, but this time they only had to walk a few meters before they arrived at a set of double doors that opened with a whisk as the guard approached.

Inside was a large, round room that seemed to have many other rooms attached to it. There were beds dispersed in a rough circle along the edges of the room, and some had already been taken by the Transformed who'd arrived here previously. They were sitting on the edge – save for that one individual who looked so heavy that he'd probably break anything he sat on – and looking around the sickbay uncertainly.

The guard gestured to a set of free beds, and Nikti sat on one of them. She watched as medical personal went about their business with a cool efficiency. Twice now, a Transformed had been taken into an adjoining room, and twice that individual had been returned to this one, sleeping or unconscious, resting on one of the beds, a monitor over their heads displaying vital signs in an alien language. Nikti was beginning to get nervous.

She'd also noticed a raven-haired woman in a blue uniform making rounds with the other Transformed, talking to them quietly. The woman disappeared into the other room for a few seconds, and then returned into the sickbay's main chamber. She looked around briefly before walking confidently over to Nikti. She crouched down next to the bed, bending her knees so that Nikti was looking down towards her.

"Hello. What's your name?" the woman said warmly.

"Nikti. Nikti Eilo."

"Well Nikti, I'm Deanna Troi, ship's counsellor. Pleased to meet you."

Nikti nodded in reply. "When you say counsellor… is that like a listener?"

"I'm not sure what that position entails, but I do a lot of listening. How are you feeling?"

There was something about this woman that made Nikti want to open up. "To tell you the truth, I'm a little nervous."

"That's quite understandable," Troi said. "Nobody likes to have to undergo an operation, especially one as pivotal as this one. But I assure you that our medical staff is the best there is."

"Oh, I'm sure," Nikti said, maybe a little too quickly. With all the technology she had seen since coming aboard, Nikti wondered what kind of miracles the medicines of this culture could perform. Then again, they were reversing her mutation, and that was a blessing right there.

Troi smiled and said: "Actually, they're almost finished back there. I was wondering if maybe you would want to go next?"

Nikti glanced quickly at the two unconscious Transformed – or ex-Transformed, lying on the nearby beds. Troi caught this look. "Don't worry about them," she said, "They're just sleeping off the side effects. They'll be back to their old selves in no time."

_Literally, Nikti thought. The thought of returning to normal made up her mind. "I'll go."_

Troi smiled. "Good. If you'll just come with me…"

Nitki rose from her bed and followed the exotic woman into the other room. She was greeted by some of the medical staff working there and asked to change into a blue robe while they prepped the operation table for her.

When they were ready, Nikti was made to lie on the bed. She gasped when two pieces of metal seemed to rise out of the sides and over her body.

"Don't worry," a red-haired woman advised her. "They won't hurt."

Nikti nodded and tried to relax, taking deep breaths. The pieces of metal met each other over her body's apex, sealing hermetically. They formed a half-cylinder above her, making Nikti feel a little claustrophobic again. It was like being inside a tube.

The red-haired one asked for something from another attendant, and then walked over to Nikti's side.

"You'll be all better when you wake up," she promised, and pressed something against Nikti's neck. Nikti heard a faint hiss, and suddenly felt very tired. Within seconds, she had sunk into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

SICKBAY, _U.S.S. ENTERPRISE_

IMMEDIATELY THEREAFTER

Alyssa Ogawa took a quick glance at the bio-readings on the surgical monitor to assure herself that the sedative Doctor Crusher had administered had taken effect. It had worked on all of the previous Xhaldian patients, but considering their unique physiologies it was better not to take any risks.

"The patient is sedated, doctor," she said once the monitors indicated that the Xhaldian woman was under.

"Alright then, let's begin. Activate the molecular resonator."

"Resonator active," Ogawa said, turning the device on with a few keypunches. "Transferring her autonomic functions over to life support." The treatment that had been devised to reverse the mutation was extremely invasive, implicating that each and every cell in the patient's body be subjected to a radiation field to induce regression to an early state of being.

Crusher had partly based the treatment on a synthetic and tightly controlled version of Barclay's Proto-Morphosis Syndrome, a condition that had afflicted the _Enterprise crew four years ago. Ogawa still had disquieting memories of her time as a simian. Lieutenant Commander Data had designed a retrovirus to counter its effects using the amniotic fluid in her womb, protecting her son from the Syndrome's ill effects._

Ogawa smiled faintly as thoughts of simians faded to give way to thoughts or her family. She inputted the last few controls into the surgical cylinder above the patient, double-checking that all life-support systems were functional and that patient's condition was stable.

"All vital signs normal, doctor."

"Good. I'm activating the mitochondrial probe… now."

Ogawa kept her eyes on the cylinder's readouts as the radiation field became intense enough to pierce through the cellular membranes. Almost as soon as the probe was initiated, she noticed a slight fluctuation in the power levels.

"Doctor? There appears to be a power drain on the system."

"How much?"

"Point zero five."

"Make a note of it. We'll contact Engineering about it later."

"Yes, Doctor."

Once the cells' protective layer had been breached, the radiation bombardment started seeping into the Xhaldian's system, tweaking enzymes and causing the base pair genes to resequence. Not even a second later, the cylinder began emitting a short series of beeps to get Ogawa's attention.

"The power drain is increasing. It's now at five percent . . . eight percent . . . twelve percent–"

"Compensate!"

"I'm trying. I'm redirecting power from the other sickbay systems but it doesn't seem to be having any effect."

Above them, the lights started to flicker.

"Abort!" Crusher said, splitting her attention between her patient and the failing lights.

"I'm trying. It won't let me access the controls. The power feed is blocking access to all other systems. The drain is now at fifty-five percent . . . seventy percent . . . ninety percent."

The lights went out in sickbay, and stayed out this time. Ogawa could hear worried exclamations from the crewmen and Transformed in the other room, but she paid them no more than peripheral heed. For if all power was off in sickbay, that meant–

"Quick," Beverly Crusher said, "help me get her out of there and over to the auxiliary life support unit."

Ogawa raced over to the storage locker by one of the biobeds. If all power to sickbay was off, then it meant that the young Xhaldian woman was no longer on life support. And since her autonomic functions were supposed to be regulated by the computer systems, her body had been effectively shut down. Blood and oxygen would no longer reach the brain, and it was only a matter of minutes before the resulting brain damage meant that she wouldn't be able to be revived.

Ogawa grabbed a pair of pneumatic handles from the storage locker, throwing one to Crusher as she approached the surgical unit. Usually these devices were used to open doors aboard the _Enterprise when the power was off-line, but in this case the two medics applied it to either side of the surgical unit and pulled. With a few jerks, the cylinder split apart and descended low enough into the biobed to give Crusher and Ogawa access to their patient._

"One, two, three, lift!" At Crusher's signal, the two woman picked up either end of the robed Xhaldian and quickly moved her over to a mobile, old-fashioned gurney, being careful not to worsen her situation while still acting with all due haste. They rolled the gurney over to the auxiliary life support unit, designed to run on it's own battery power for circumstances just like these.

As Ogawa activated the auxiliary, she heard phaser fire coming from the next room. She figured that the guards had had to put down some of the Transformed that he been getting too anxious from the blackout. Either that or one of the Transformed, reacting out of fear, had managed to seize a phaser from the guards and was firing. Either way, it disturbed the physician in her to have sickbay turned into a battleground.

"She's hooked up, but I'm not reading any brain activity."

"Cortical stimulator," Crusher ordered harshly.

Ogawa grabbed the small medical device from the tray next to the surgical bed and applied it to the young woman's forehead. The round stimulator automatically bonded with the patient's skin as the auxiliary life support unit stridently beeped at the medical personnel that they were losing her.

Under normal circumstances, Ogawa would need only to use the nearest medical console to trigger the cortical stimulator, but none of the consoles in sickbay were operative. Luckily, field training at the Academy's medical branch had covered this kind of scenario, and Ogawa was capable of inputting the required commands straight onto the tiny stimulator.

On the auxiliary's display unit, the Xhaldian's neural patterns spiked as the cortical stimulator delivered an electrical shock straight to the patient's brain, but quickly flattened out again.

"Increase the voltage."

"Yes, doctor."

The small, red squares on the stimulator flashed once as Ogawa manually augmented the dosage of electricity, and then again as the stimulator delivered a second shock.

"Again!" Crusher said, splitting her attention between the medical tricorder in her hands and the readouts on the auxiliary.

Ogawa triggered the stimulator a third time. This time the young woman's neural patterns spiked and diminished, but did not flatten out again. The auxiliary was recording neural activity that, though definitely below the desired norm, no longer indicated any danger of brain death. The patient would probably still be in critical condition for a few hours, and would need close monitoring – which would have to be done manually until the power came back on – but she'd pull through.

Ogawa sighed as the carefully constructed clinical calm all medical practitioners developed to deal with emergencies gave way to the residual adrenaline rush low. Another life saved, another death averted for now. The war against humanoids' own mortality still raged on, but this battle had been won.

* * *

CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM, _U.S.S. ENTERPRISE_

AN HOUR LATER

"Warm chamomile tea."

Picard heard the replicator hum softly as it produced the requested beverage. Crusher picked it up and walked over to Picard's desk, walking slowly so as to not spill any of her tea. Picard took a sip from his own tea (Earl Grey, of course), then set the cup down on the saucer and looked at his chief medical officer.

"So what exactly happened?"

"It was her mutation. The alterations that the Draa'kon seeded into their genetic structures can cause anything from strictly cosmetic changes in bodily appearance to radical reconfigurations of their internal workings. The genetic structures of some of these individuals are a real mess, almost impossible to make heads or tails of."

Crusher paused as she took a sip of tea, letting the spice blend soothe her.

"Anyway, once I had ascertained that her condition was stable, I tried to contact the medical authorities on Xhaldia, but that was no help because no one has gotten around to registering these people and logging in any special medical needs arising from their condition.

"Instead, I contacted the government building where the Transformed are currently being lodged and, with Counsellor Troi's help, finally got to talk to someone who knew the young woman. Apparently, whatever transformation occurred in her genome, it gave her the ability to absorb light, heat, and other forms of energy. When we triggered the mitochondrial probe with the radiation, her immune system must have taken it as an attack – which it was – and triggered her absorption abilities. On instinct, she began drawing power from the surgical bed, unknowingly draining her very own life support systems. When we tried to divert power to compensate, she was able to tap into the ship's power supply, as you saw."

"Indeed," Picard replied tersely. He didn't like the idea that a single, unconscious young woman could bring his ship down to its proverbial knees with a simple reflex. He was on the bridge when the lights had begun to flicker, consoles all around him going dark. Fortunately Data had been able to isolate the sickbay systems before the Enterprise had been forced to turn to battery power. Picard shook his head, having a hard time conceiving that a single person could absorb the entire power of a Sovereign-class starship.

He'd also gotten a report that the guards posted in sickbay had had to put down a large, panicked, rampaging Transformed. They were able to react fast enough to avoid any serious damage to sickbay, and the perpetrator in question was currently sleeping off the phaser stun in sickbay, under the watchful eyes of trained medical and security staff. Picard would have had the man sent to the brig, but the Transformed's unique medical condition lead to the request that he be kept in sickbay until they could be certain that there would be no additional ill effects from the stun. Speaking of which…

"How is the young lady?"

"Stable, but we're keeping a close eye on her anyway. Luckily this 'absorption reflex' ended once we took her away from the threat – the radiation field. Otherwise she would have drained the auxiliary life-support, too."

Crusher shifted in her chair, leaning forward over the desk.

"I've conducted further scans, and they've lead me to believe that any attempt to reverse her mutation would simply trigger the same response – and it's so deeply embedded within her cellular structure that I can't even find the biological cause for it, let alone a way to circumvent it.

"Jean-Luc, I'm afraid that we won't be able to help this one."

* * *

TEMPORARY TRANSFORMED UNIT HOUSING, VERDEEN

THE NEXT DAY

There is no worse prison than one's own body. Even in the smallest of cells, one could move, stretch, even pace. But when that very prison was the flesh on your bones, there was simply no way to escape it. It was like having your consciousness grafted into the prison bars, allowing the prisoner to see freedom on all sides but unable to even budge in one direction or another. Even if it had been possible to pace the length of this particular cell, Nikti Eilo felt much too beaten down to feel restless by her "confinement".

She was lying on the bed in the apartment that had been provided to her by Xhaldia's government until she got her affairs in order. Considering her completely chaotic state of existence right now, she doubted she'd ever be within striking distance of reaching order and normalization once again.

Normal. There was a joke. She would never be normal again. Whatever hope of ever regaining her humanity and her past life that she had before was now gone. The operation aboard the _Enterprise had failed. She would be condemned to be a Transformed until the end of her days._

She'd woken up in sickbay, feeling very weak. The last thing she could remember was the _Enterprise's medical staff administering something to make her sleep, and then she'd awakened aching all over. Every time she tried to shift her body, it would send needles percolating through her muscles. She tried to speak out, but her throat felt raw and she couldn't do more than squeak. Finally, one of the orderlies in the blue uniforms had seen that her eyes were opened, and called out to another room._

The listener, the one whom Nikti had spoken to earlier and who had identified herself as Deanna Troi, came up to the raised bed. Her eyes were unnaturally dark but seemed filled with compassion. To Nikti, that was a very bad sign. Before the exotic woman even opened her mouth, Nikti knew that something had gone very, very wrong. She shouldn't be hurting like this after the operation; none of the others seemed to have been in any pain.

"Nikti, I have some bad news. In these type of circumstances, it's always best to go straight to the matter at hand, so…" She paused to take in breath. "Something about your transformation caused the sickbay equipment to malfunction. There was a power drain of the ship's systems, and you had to be placed on emergency life support. Our ship's doctor looked over the incident, and we won't be able to reverse your transformation because the problem would just repeat itself."

At the time, Nikti had been too shocked to react, but since that time the full emotional impact of what had happened dropped on her like a hovercar.

Nikti hadn't felt very weak for long. Doctor Crusher learned from experience, and had given her a spare power pack. Nikti had stared at it incomprehensibly for a few moments, and then figured out what was expected of her. Reaching out, she touched the power pack with a hand and opened herself to the tactile sensations it offered. The detail under her fingertips seemed to grow until her hand and the pack felt merged together. A feeling of warmth had spread through her as she drained the pack of its energy, her body metabolizing the power in order to restore her to peak health.

Afterwards, Crusher had said that there was really no reason for Nikti to remain aboard, and that she could return to Xhaldia whenever she wanted to. Nikti had opted to leave right away on the shuttle ferrying the Transformed – the _ex-Transformed – back to the planet. Even though Nikti showed no outwards signs of her Transformation, the rest of the newly reborn Xhaldians must have heard about her somehow, because she noticed that she was being given rather wide berth for such a crowded shuttlecrafts, not to mention the occasional glances in her direction._

On Xhaldia, she made her way through the temperate Verdeen night straight towards the housing the government had set up for the Transformed, glad that nobody on the transport there knew who – and what – she was. For some reason, as she had drawn closer to the Governmental Quarter, she had felt a panicky sensation rise within her. By the time she reached the housing, she felt about to explode. She ran through the lobby, paying no heed to a guard who asked to see identification. Taking the lift up to the fourteenth floor, she felt an uncommon bout of claustrophobia that only served to heighten her anxiety.

The lift doors had opened, and Nikti dashed madly to her apartments, darting past a few surprised Transformed. Once the door was closed, the entire emotional backlash from the day's events had just come pouring out. Nikti couldn't remember what had happened very well – it was like a dream, or a fever – but there had been crying and plenty of it. Eventually, she'd drifted off to sleep, only to awaken the next morning well after the sun had risen.

She didn't feel like crying anymore – to do so would take up too much of her energy. The only thing she wanted to do now was lie on the bed, welcoming sleep if it came again, but knowing that simply not thinking would suffice. But she couldn't do that – not yet, anyway. She had a family, children, and she couldn't abrogate her responsibilities towards them.

Nikti forced her body to drag itself over to the small receptor terminal in the apartment. She sat in the chair in front of the screen, flicked the button to turn the power on, and inputted the number for her house in Bellos Province. As the words "Establishing Communication" flashed in green on the screen, Nikti tried to figure out what she would say to her mate when he appeared. By the time his familiar face set against the familiar backdrop of their room blinked into existence, Nikti hadn't even managed to string a sentence together.

"Yes? Nikti!" His voice was pleasantly surprised, soft with the warmth of love. "How are you? When are you coming back?"

"I–" Nikti started to say, but was forced to stop to choke back a sob. She had no idea what she was going to say anyway.

"Nikti, what's wrong?" Bakro Psid asked with concern.

"It didn't work, Bakro," she said, lower lip trembling. "The operation, I mean."

"You're still…" Bakro trailed off, but there was no need to ask what the rest of the question would have been.

Sniffling, Nikti nodded her head. On the screen, Bakro took in a deep breath, and his facial expression seemed chagrined.

"Nikti, I'm… sorry. This is really, really hard for me to say, but… as long as the doctors can't fix what's happened to you, I think it would be better for everybody if you stayed where you were. I mean, we really have no idea what this mutation of yours can do, do we? And we wouldn't want to put the children at risk. Again."

Again. That last word resonated through her body and soul like a scream in an empty cavern. She had nearly killed her own children, and now she expected to just walk back into her home as if nothing had happened? When this change that had caused the near-fatal accident was still with her, ready to rise to the surface of her being without warning and finish the job?

Nikti tried to hold back the tears, but this time without success. She thought she'd cried herself out the night before, but she felt as if the floodgates in her eyes had been thrown open again.

"I'm sorry, Nikti," Bakro said onscreen, looking remorseful. "But my first priority has to be the safety of the babies. I think it would be best for the children if you weren't around. Call me if anything happens. Goodbye."

The screen went black before Nikti had a chance to choke out some form of reply. She just stared at the dark screen until the stream of tears subsided to little more than a warm flow on her cheeks. But on the inside, the quaking only got worse. In many ways, she felt just like the inactive receptor terminal: dark and empty.

Bakro was right, of course. As long as she was like this – as long as she was Transformed – she would be endangering the lives of all those around her. Something had to be done about that.

There was a way to be free of the prison of the body, Nikti realized. Simply release the consciousness.

* * *

VERDEEN CENTRAL SECURITY OFFICE

SHORTLY THEREAFTER

Onjia Wasd sat before a pile of paperwork that could best be described as daunting. What was even more daunting was what those papers represented. There was nothing that incurred more paperwork in Xhaldia's Security Department than the loss of personnel, but Wasd would gladly fill out forms in triplicate for the rest of her natural life if it could bring back even one of her men whose names were now to be entered in the deceased field on the terminal screen.

It seemed like just a few days ago – an eternity, really – she had been thinking that her job was boring and wishing that something would happen. Well, something had happened all right. A full-fledged alien invasion to be precise.

Because of the intense magnetic fields in Xhaldia's atmosphere, the planet had to use booster satellites in order to maintain contact with their interstellar neighbours – not that there were all that many of them, it had seemed. Until a few days ago, Xhaldia had maintained friendly relations with the nearby Federation outposts and an unofficial policy of mutual ignoring when it came to the Breen.

Then the Draa'kon came out of a sector of space previously unexplored but thought to be uninhabited. And they had destroyed the booster satellites, so when their drop-ships began landing in the middle of Verdeen, Wasd had received no warning of the impending attack.

Verdeen's usual complement of guards and their volunteer reserves were immediately mobilized to counter the threat, but the efforts were never properly organized. Wasd herself had been unable to direct the resistance because she was at the head of the main complement of Verdeen's guard, having set up a blockade just outside of the Residential Quarter, unaware that the Draa'kon's goal in Verdeen was in the Old Quarter and the residential section of the city had never been in danger of the aliens.

Further adding to the complicated situation had been the presence of the Transformed in the Old Quarter, recently escaped from their incarceration at the Obrig fortress and apparently the goal of the Draa'kon's invasion. Fighting in the Old Quarter became a free-for-all between columns of city guard that had found their way to the alien drop sites, Draa'kon soldiers and the young but apparently quite powerful Transformed who had felt equally threatened by both the former groups. Later on, crew from the _Enterprise and their strange friends had joined the mêlée, intensifying the battle briefly before the Xhaldian, Transformed and Federation forces in the city were able to band together and take out the Draa'kon. Luckily, all those with energy weapons were using stun settings._

Though a lot of people had been injured by shooting, hand-to-hand and even odder means of combat during the battle, the only casualties had come from just outside the city, where the fighting had eventually spilt out into the foothills. One of the Transformed – a Shupaar native called Rahatan Bearg – had began killing everybody in sight irrespective of their affiliation – Draa'kon, city guard, Enterprise crewmen and even civilians who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

These were the people whose names now floated in the computerized aether in front of her, taunting her with the spectre of failure. Rationally, she knew that there was no way for her to have anticipated the Draa'kon's plans and that defending the Residential Quarter had been the best option with the knowledge available to her, but it still didn't stop her from wondering if there had been some vital clue she had missed, something that would have allowed her and her troops to move into the Old Quarter and possibly save those who had died that day.

A slight tone stirred her from her brooding, and she twisted the dial on her desk to active the receptor terminal. The face of Mireem Sesmak, a lieutenant under her command, currently filling in for Afio Banevern who still hadn't reported in from his mission to Obrig, greeted her. He was a competent and studious officer, if somewhat lacking in creativity.

"Corporal, we have a situation that I felt warranted your attention."

"Yes, what is it?"

"There's a woman in the window of the building used to house the Transformed. It looks like she's thinking of jumping off."

Wasd blinked in surprise. Suicide attempts weren't usually enough to warrant the attention of the city security chief, and Sesmak should have been able to handle this himself.

"What's the problem?"

"Well, we've set up the protective layers at the base of the building, so if she falls she won't go splatter against the streets, but…" Sesmak seemed to hesitate. "Well, we followed standard procedure and tried to stun her, so that she would fall."

" 'Tried to stun her'?"

"That's the problem. Every time we shoot her, she seems to just… absorb the stun bolt."

" 'Absorb the stun bolt'?" Wasd was beginning to feel like a parrot, and didn't like the feeling of confusion one bit. On screen, Sesmak shrugged and said:

"I assume it has something to do with her being Transformed."

"I'll be right down."

Wasd switched off the receptor, saved the work onscreen and rose from her desk. Quickly, she rode the lift down to the garage and hoped into a hovercar. She entered the coordinates of the building where the Transformed were being housed and let the autopilot guide the craft through the streets.

Wasd shook her head as the buildings flew by. Someone who was resistant to stun bolts? An ability like that could pose a serious threat to security, even accidentally. And she'd seen for herself what could happen when a Transformed used his or her abilities with malicious intent. She'd have to look into the situation, and any possible solutions, at a later time.

She arrived in front of the temporary housing unit and the hovercar slowed to a stop. A crowd of gawkers and rubber-neckers had already assembled at the base of the building, held back from the probable impact zone by city guardsmen, staring up at the young woman. She was dressed in a soft blue robe that fluttered in the wind, hands braced on either edge of the window.

Wasd spotted Sesmak and approached him.

"Report."

"The protective layer is in place, but as long as she's conscious I can't guarantee that she might not be able to find a way to steer her fall away from it, or anything else that could cause serious injury or death. We've got men in her apartment, but they're afraid that any attempt to rush and grab her would just cause her to jump. And of course, the stun bolts are completely ineffective. Short of increasing our rifles' power settings – and even that might not work – I think we have no choice but to try and convince her to get down."

"Great. Where is the listener associated with the Security Department? Shouldn't he be doing the convincing?"

Sesmak shifted uncomfortably. "We contacted Dr. Soltsik, but he refused to come. Said that it was too dangerous."

"Because the young lady in question is a Transformed, no doubt," Wasd said, eyes narrowing. Sure they posed a security threat, but you'd think that a listener of all people would be willing to reach out to one of them – or at least do their job. "Make a note that I want him fired. Can we get another listener here?"

"I've sent out calls to the Psychology Department, but the closest one with experience in this kind of situation is an hour away."

Wasd looked up at the young woman hanging from the window of the fourteenth floor, robe rippling in the wind. What could drive someone to such lengths? Was it a side effect of the Transformation?

"By then it might be too late," Wasd observed. "I'm going up there myself. Keep it under control at this end."

"Yes, Corporal."

Wasd strode towards the building, nodding at the guards keeping others out. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted what looked like an Xhaldian, only he was all purple, bald, and had bulging veins. Another one of the Transformed who was temporarily living here. Idly, Wasd wondered just how many of the other, seemingly normal people in the crowd were actually capable of bizarre feats of power – such as absorbing stun bolts.

She took the lift up to the fourteenth floor, easily determining what direction to go in by the presence of city guards in the hallway. She reached the Transformed's room, and waved away the two guards at the entrance, keeping a wary eye on the young woman. As they moved back into the corridor, Wasd took a few tentative steps forward into the apartment.

"Hello?"

The young woman turned to her. If there were any exterior signs of the Transformation, Wasd couldn't see them. However, from the redness of her eyes and the wet traces on her golden cheeks, Wasd could tell that she had been crying.

"Hi," Wasd said in what she hoped was a friendly tone but actually come out sounding apprehensive her ears. "My name is Onjia Wasd. I'm the head of the Security Department here in Verdeen."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Wasd wasn't too familiar with the psychology involved here, but she was pretty sure that self-blame was something she'd want to avoid when dealing with someone a shove away from a fourteen-story plunge. 

"No, it's no trouble at all. Really, I was bored." Wasd flinched inwardly almost as soon as the words had left her mouth. What a terrible thing to say. Maybe she should have waited for the listener after all.

The young woman turned away from her and looked back out the window.

"Wait!" Wasd said, afraid that the simple head movement was a prelude to something more. "Uh, what's your name?"

"Nikti. Nikti Eilo."

"Good, good. Now, would you like to tell me exactly what's wrong, Nikti?"

"I went up to the _Enterprise_," Nikti said in a deadened voice. "They were supposed to be able to reverse my Transformation, but they couldn't. I'm stuck this way."

"Well… that doesn't mean that you can't still live a full and worthwhile life. There are plenty of people right here who have elected to remain Transformed. Maybe you could talk to them, ask them what they plan to do."

"But they wanted to be Transformed! I don't want this life!"

"It's not like you have much of a choice!" Wasd snapped. "Life is filled with challenges, that's what makes it interesting. It is overcoming these challenges and reaping the rewards that make it worth living."

"This is not who I am," Nikti said, taking her hands off the sides of the window to look at them. Wasd didn't like the way she seemed to totter as she did so. "I'm just some freak created by aliens."

"Yes, they messed with your genes. Yes, you might have been intended to be a weapon. But you don't have to be a weapon. You are Nikti Eilo, and your life belongs to you, and you alone. Not to some aliens. The Transformed helped beat back the Draa'kon from Verdeen. They rose up and took their lives into their own hands. You also have your life in your hands now. But if you step out of that window," Wasd said, taking a step forward, "then all you are doing is letting the Draa'kon win."

"But… I can't be with my family anymore."

Wasd swore to herself. That complicated things.

"There's no reason why not," Wasd told her, taking another step forwards. "It's not like being Transformed is infectious or anything."

"Don't you understand? I'm dangerous! If I can't control myself, I could hurt somebody!"

"I'm part of the Security Department, remember? I've been trained to fight, and even to kill if necessary. If I lose my self-control, then I can be just as dangerous. Anybody could. Self-control is something that you can be taught, very easily."

Nikti shook her head. "It doesn't matter. They don't want me. My mate says I'm too dangerous."

Wasd could think of a few equally unpleasant things to say about such a man at this point, but refrained herself and tried to switch tracks. "Your Transformation doesn't have to mean the end of your life. Think of it as a new beginning. A new chance. A new life."

"I don't want a new life," Nikti said, actually sounding irritated. "I want my old one back. Before any of this happened."

"We'll contact your mate, see if we can't work out some kind of arrangement."

Nikti spun away from the window, jumping off the sill and quickly crossing the remaining distance between her and the older woman. She grabbed Wasd by the front of her uniform, and Wasd had to marshal all of the self-control she had mentioned earlier to squash the reflex to fight back.

"Haven't you been listening?" Nikti screamed point-blanc. "I almost killed my babies!" Wasd saw something imperceptible break across Nikti's face, and the expression of rage seemed to melt into one of grief within the space of an instant. Suddenly, the grip on her uniform was not that of a belligerent holding an enemy, but of a confused youth desperately holding on to life. "Blood of the Ancients, what kind of monster have I become?"

Nikti's legs seemed to give out beneath her, but Wasd caught her shoulders and gently lowered her to the carpeted floor. The Transformed was racked by wave after wave of emotion, sobbing softly. Kneeling next to Nikti, Wasd felt a burning hatred for those who would do this to someone who was only twenty-two. If the Draa'kon ever showed up again, they would have a lot to answer for.

Wasd held on to the crying form of Nikti for what seemed like quite a long time before she finally spotted a listener and a medic come through the doorway. As the medic prepared a sedative, Wasd spoke once more.

"Nikti, whatever happens, we will find a way to work through it. They may not be able to reverse your Transformation now, but they might in the future. Just live your life day by day, and never give up hope."

"Day by day," Nikti whispered softly. Then the medic slid the needle into Nikti's arm, and she closed her eyes, drifting into sleep.

Wasd knew it was probably too soon to tell, but she thought that Nikti had been saved the moment she'd stepped away from that window, even if in anger. Perhaps passion really was the flavour of life. Wasd didn't think the young woman's troubles were over – not by a long shot – but at least now she would know that there was someone she could turn to. As long as she wasn't alone, there would indeed still be hope.

Endnotes: The next two issues will be mostly set-up filler leading up to the "relaunch", if you will, of events on Xhaldia.


End file.
